Life as an RPG
So, I was viewing life this morning as if it were a Role Playing Game. You know, the Dungeons and Dragons type (not the kind you're thinking of, Randy). It seemed to me that I felt a little differently about life when seeing myself as a player character in the game. I wondered what kind of character I was. None of the typical roles of Fighter, Mage, Thief, Cleric, etc. seemed to fit me. I checked on my character stats to see what I was qualified to be. To my surprise, I didn't qualify for anything.
My Strength score was low enough that I barely registered as a living organism. My Constitution was ok, but it's been largely ignored by the Supreme Court. Dexterity was good when armed with drumsticks, but without them, I fell on my face a lot. My Intelligence was rather embarassing. My Wisdom score was a question mark. Worst of all, my Charisma score was so negative that I was regarded as more repulsive than cave trolls with acid related injuries.
Unable to find an answer in my stats, I reviewed my accomplishments over the years. I've completed quests. More accurately, I drive a Quest (Nissan). Like many other player characters, I've amassed my share of "special" or magical items. Unfortunately, my collection is one of remarkably marginally useless items. You know how other players will collect items like a +3 Sword of Dragon Slicing or +4 Boots of Flight? I've got a +1 butter knife. It's especially good if you heat the knife up first. I found a +1 staple remover once. Most of the other items I have are very specific about their uses. Sometimes, they're so specific, they practically useless for anything else. My Letter Opener of Really Large Checks From Distant Relatives has never been used. Sadly, my Flashlight of Illuminating the Darkness Long Enough So You Can Claw Your Way Out of The Annaconda That Just Swallowed You has never been used, either. I'm not sure if I was optimistic or pessimistic when I thought, "Hey, I might need these Boots of Anemic Goat Manure Stomping someday."
Then it ocurred to me. Maybe I'm not a player character. Maybe I'm only an NPC (Non-Player Character), designed merely to populate the milieu to add color to the game. I mean, we can't all be players, right? Some of us must exist merely as background characters in another's story. Maybe, I'm the crazy guy on the outskirts of civilization you have to visit in order to find that rare item you need in order to complete your heroic quest. I'm just hoping I'm not the annoying jerk who is sent through the door first to see if it's safe to walk into the Den of Liches.
Anyway, I've got to go to a meeting now. They want me to go into the conference room first. I'm not sure why...